His Sorrowful Melody
by DiNozzo14
Summary: When certain events from Tony's past become too much to handle, will be be able to overcome it? Currently a WIP *Warning* Hints at child abuse..so if that's not your thing, don't read...but i would love if you did.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm not sure whether this will be a series of one shots or whether I will actually get around to putting out more chapters. My hope is that I will continue this story as I have many ideas for it floating around inside my head :D

My anti-drug is feedback! Be nice...or I won't like you. (just kidding ^_^ ).

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or Tony DiNozzo...however they do let me borrow him.

Chapter 1

From where he sat, no one could reach him; he was safe up here.

The cool breeze glided softly past and gently tousled his hair making him remember. It was almost as if he could actually feel her loving affection through these seemingly random gusts of wind.

But she was no longer here. She was taken away from him. And as Anthony DiNozzo stared out into the night sky from his perch high up in his favorite sycamore tree, he let his previously held back tears flow silently down his face.

Right now he didn't care if Father said crying made him weak, his mother always told him his strength could not be defined by tears. So he let them fall silently wishing she could come back to him.

o.O.o.O.o

_"Mother! I'm home!" little Anthony exclaimed as he ran through his giant home excited to show off his newly required A+ report card._

_"Anthony, dear boy," Rosa, the DiNozzo's house keeper loudly chuckled at the boy's antics as he was now running around in circles with said report card in the shape of an airplane and was just about to launch it. "What are you up to? May I see please?"_

_"Um, sure I guess." Tony replied as he handed it over receiving a warm smile as Rosa read over the report. "Do you think father would be proud? 'Cuz I really tried harder this time and the last time I didn't do so well and he said that I'd have go for extra-"_

_"Oh! Don't worry Tonio, this is absolutely wonderful! I'm sure your father will be very proud of you." Rosa said with a smile that quickly faded when a loud crash from deep inside the house stole her attention away. "Why don't you go see if your mother's alright while I go and finish off those brownies you love so much." She said to the small boy who was nervously wringing his hands together._

_"Alright" he said as he snatched his report card back and ran off in the direction of the piano room where his mother usually waited for him after school. He quickly pushed past the double French doors and into the room gaining speed and excitement rising. However, when the awful sight caught his eye, he stopped dead in his tracks. The big shiny A+ floated to the floor, forgotten. _

_"M...Mother?" Tony's voice cracked as he approached the figure dangling from the beamed ceiling next to his beloved piano. The piano seat was overturned beneath her feet and a glass of her mint julep was spilled all over the floor. "Are...are you okay?" He asked even though he knew she wouldn't be able to ever answer him._

_"N..no, no, no, NO!" he yelled as he turned and ran from the room in the direction of his father's study._

_ "DADDY!" he screamed as he burst through the mahogany doors, the rules of knocking first and waiting to be addressed forgotten as his fear for his mother overrode any form of punishment he was sure to be rewarded with later._

_"How many times have I instructed you never to interrupt me, boy!" the elder DiNozzo spat at his young son, but the boy was not listening as he disregarded his father's harsh reprimand and proceeded to speak._

_"It's mother! She's just there..and something's wrong! And...and I wasn't there to help her..and I don't know what to-you have to help father. Please!" he said not waiting to see if his father was actually going to follow him as he turned around and headed back to the piano room that could no longer be what it always was; a happy and loving place where he and his mother would trade their love of music and stories. _

_His father's heavy footsteps resounded through the hallway as he reluctantly followed his only son into the room. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of his beloved wife. He pushed the small boy out of the way and ran over to her tugging the rope from around her neck and lowering her to the floor. He rocked her back and forth with a distant look on his face for a few minutes. Anthony Snr. closed his eyes for a moment and stopped rocking when he sensed the presence of another in the room. His eyes snapped open and revealed the raw angry emotion behind them; he stared daggers at his only son and screamed._

_ "THIS IS YOUR FAULT, BOY!"_

_"Wha? N...no, dad I didn't...I swear..I-I couldn't, she was like that when I got home!" he cried._

_"Don't you even dare to call me '_dad_!" the elder spat. "I've told you since the time you were old enough to understand that you are no son of mine. You are to only address me as 'Father' or 'Sir'...or have you forgotten that lesson?_

_Images of said lesson flashed through Tony's mind as he internally shuddered at the thought of going through another one. He didn't care if expensive leather belts made an equally as expensive Italian suit look better, they certainly did not do any wonders for his back. As a matter of fact he was pretty sure he still had the scars._

_"No, da-sir. I haven't. I just..I needed you to help her and I just...I-" he wished that the water would stop leaking from the ceiling obstructing his vision-oh wait. Tears? Maybe his father wouldn't notice._

_"And now you're crying." _

_Nope. Great. _

_"God, you're so weak Anthony. The only woman I've ever loved is dead because of you and do you see me crying? No! Because I am not weak. And now I no longer have to keep-"_

_Anthony wondered if he should mention that the waterworks were indeed flowing from his father's eyes but thought better of it and instead stared sadly at his mother._

_"...now boy!" his father had apparently given an order which he hadn't heard. "I said clean up this mess while I go make a call! Tony thought he heard his father mumble something along the lines of 'worthless waste of space' before he exited the room but that couldn't be right. Could it? He set to work picking up the chair and placing it back underneath the piano. He went over to the split alcohol and started picking up the little pieces of glass. He didn't even feel the shards pierce his skin as they left his hand and fell to the trashcan. When the work was done his spotted his mother, still lying on the floor where his father had left her. He slowly approached her and took her limp hand in his. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry mother."_

_o.O.o.O  
_

He frowned as the memory he tried so hard to forget came rushing back to him. Maybe if he had gotten home sooner, she wouldn't be gone. If he'd been a little taller maybe he could have gotten her down from the ceiling. But he knew now that what-if's were a moot point and nothing he could have done would have been enough to save his mother.

From the outside, the DiNozzo's house looked warm and inviting; people driving past it would stop and stare in awe.

Tony wished he could tell them that things weren't always as they seem. Warm and inviting was definitely not what this house had in store for him or for anyone, really. The only reason Rosa had stayed was for the pay check she received each week to keep her family off the streets; however she always said she stayed to keep him out of trouble.

But she was gone now too. His father had seen her comforting Tony after a particularly dreadful 'lesson' and had been promptly fired. "The DiNozzo men do not need coddling!" were the last words spoken to Rosa.

Tony had been upset. Rosa had been the only one after his mother's death who had cared for him.

Well, no, actually he did have the chef, Mr. Scoledario, but Tony found him to be a bit…creepy.

Heavy footsteps and a loud voice brought Tony's thoughts back to the present. His name was being yelled from somewhere deep inside the big house. He was only ten years old, but he could definitely tell the difference between his father's varying degrees of drunkenness. Tonight was going to be a bad one if his father found him.

Most nights the sycamore tree provided Tony the escape he so desperately needed...apparently this was going to be one of those nights.

His father stumbled outside calling out for Tony who stayed silent.

"Where the hell are you boy?" Anthony Snr slurred, simultaneously trying and failing to walk and look up at the same time. "Ah, forget it…'s gonna end up in the gutter 'nyways."

When his father turned to go back inside, Tony released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He turned back around to stare out at the star he had just wished on. Silently thanking it and realizing that there would be no leather belts, hard-soled shoes, or metal rulers for his angry father to use on him tonight.

_  
**Tony: **I used to play piano...

**Ziva: **Were you any good?

**Tony: **...Yeah she was.

_Boxed In (season 3)_

**A/N: **Hopefully you liked it enough to want more. I promise I wont hurt Tony too much. XD


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thank you all for such lovely reviews! I was genuinely surprised by the positive feedback...so I thought you all deserved an update. :D I know, I know..I'm awesome.**

**This chapter is slightly longer than the first but, hey, that shouldn't be a problem. All mistakes are my own, and even though i double and triple checked, there are still bound to be some since I wrote the thing at three in the morning 'cuz the elephant upstairs in this stupid apartment makes too much noise at night. Bad for me, good for you! Anyways, onward! And I hope you like this as much as you did the first chapter...this one stars adult Tony (YAY!). I love him and am sad that I am not allowed to own him.**

Chapter 2

_"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls. The most massive characters are seared with scars." Khalil Gibran_**  
**

It was raining heavily outside just as it had been on that fateful night some years ago; and the drenched figure sat hunched over in the shadows shivering not from the rain, but from the memory.

"God." The figure whispered shakily as he teetered on the edge between dry eyes and wet ones.

'DiNozzo men do not cry, boy!' was the voice that held his tears at bay. Crying made him weak; at least in the eyes of his father. But his father wasn't here tonight in this dismal tavern where memories of the past held Tony captive.

He desperately wished for the comfort of his sacred sycamore tree where no one could catch him acting so pathetic. He was pretty sure no one noticed him anyway though, no one ever did. In fact, the reason Tony DiNozzo was so good at undercover operations was because of the fact that he could blend in and not be noticed. Not that it was too hard. He spent his entire childhood attempting to escape and evade the violent nature of his father.

He became too good at it, Tony realized. Even his so called friends and coworkers probably wouldn't mind to see him leave. They didn't care.

"Yo! Tony-boy!" the exuberant barkeep and Tony's old college buddy, known infamously as 'Raging Robert' for his ever present hotheadedness brought Tony out of his thoughts. He approached the young man, apparently not noticing the horrified look on his face as he did so.

"Hey Rob." Tony tried not to slur his words. He had been sitting here for what felt like hours and had about three drinks judging from the empty glasses in front of him.

"What's crackin' man? Haven't seen you around here in ages! Thought maybe you dropped off the face of the planet." Rob laughed and then proceeded to ask, "Can I get you another one of those, uh-? Whatcha drinkin'?"

Tony slowly moved his eyes toward the various empty glasses that were surrounding him, suddenly realizing that there were somehow more of them and he didn't know how much he actually had to drink.

Oh well.

"Just give me a shot of….uh…." he trailed off staring at something seemingly more interesting than Raging Rob.

"Tony?" Rob questioned the sanity of his long lost friend and snapping his fingers in front of his face. "Hey! Ant, buddy….oooh! There we go."

"Bourbon." Tony finished his sentence and hoped that the familiar drink would calm him.

"Alright, but this is the last one man. I'm cutting you off." Rob said as he slid a newly filled glass over to Tony's waiting hands.

"Hey Ant?"

"Hmm?"

"I gotta go make a quick call so don't be stealin' any more o' that stuff while I'm gone, kay."

Tony waved his hand to dismiss him, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

Several minutes passed before Rob ventured back over towards Tony.

"Uh, my shift's over dude, you want me to drive you somewhere?" the question was hesitant and Rob knew the answer before Tony gave it.

"No."

"You sure man? You good?" At this, Tony lifted his head and smiled. Granted it wasn't his famous thousand watt one, but it was a close second; even if it was faked.

"I'm always good Rob." He said and gestured for the other man to get going. "I'll see you around." And with that Tony turned back to his drink and listened as his college buddy retreated.

Tony stared down at his shaking hands and wondered how he had become so screwed up. Maybe his father was right, maybe he actually was a 'worthless waste of space that would never amount to anything in this world.' He wasn't able to save his mother all those years ago and he couldn't save Kate, Paula, or Jenny or any of the others he'd come to care about.

He choked back a sob and let his fingers play with the condensation on his untouched glass of Bourbon.

_I just keep losing people…_

"What was that my man?"

Oh, God. He said that out loud?

Tony lifted his head and tried to ease his mask back into place, but for once (and not surprisingly so for that seemed to be the point of the night), he failed.

He was staring at the bartender who had taken over Robert's shift and felt the sudden urge to spill his guts. He wasn't sure whether it was the alcohol or just the kind and understanding aura this man seemed to be giving off.

"Um," Tony's voice cracked and he swayed on his stool. "I uh…I don't really want to, um. Well, look the thing is, I—"

He was suddenly at a loss for words but the bartender seemed to understand.

"Look kid, whatever it is it can't be that bad, right?"

Tony scoffed and then shrugged and figured 'what the hell!' he had just decided he was going to leave D.C. anyway. It's not like he was that important to people, they wouldn't notice he was gone and even if they did, it was probably for the best that he just go away.

Before he hurt anymore people.

The bartender just smiled at him in encouragement and Tony sighed. It was going to be a longer night than he had expected.

"My father was a bastard."

The floodgates were opened, and Tony poured his heart out to a stranger.

_It was raining hard outside and the relentless little drops make their presence known as they dance and slide down the glass pane of the window._

_To a loosely conscious Anthony DiNozzo, however the normally relaxing pitter-patter sound of the rain was non-existent. Instead it sounded, or felt, rather like a band of drummers were banging around on the inside of his head. _

_He was lying on the cool hardwood floor in his father's study and couldn't understand how he got there. _

_Groaning, he tried to open his eyes but quickly shut them when the slightest hint of light hurt way too much. The pounding sound of the rain reverberated and echoed inside the large room and Tony decided that he rather liked the feel of the floor. It was cool and wet and helped soothe the burning feeling that was rapidly crawling up his entire body._

_As he tried to ascertain why he felt as if a truck ran over him repeatedly, he heard the pounding again and mentally cursed at the rain. The pain was searing and he felt the darkness closing in around him. _

_He decided he was too tired to fight the blackness that was tugging at him and succumbed to the blissfully painless unconscious._

_When Tony woke about ten minutes later, he was still lying on the cool hardwood floor. This time when he attempted to open up his eyes it didn't hurt as badly. It took a few minutes to look around the room, mostly because his reaction time was slow and his eyes had to take the extra few seconds to send the message of what he was seeing to his brain. _

_When he saw the small pool of blood he was lying in, he shot up into a sitting position and immediately regretted it. He slowly brought his hand to the source of pain on his head and felt a sizeable gash there._

"_You want me to make that gash bigger, boy?" He never realized how thunderous a voice could sound until now. The pain intensified at the slightest hint of a noise, and his father's drunken slurs were not helping him._

_He winced as something hard hit his back and elicited a soft cry. His head swirled around as the small pool of blood became bigger with every blow he received._

_Tony struggled to get up but something forced him to stay down. He felt the all too familiar pull of unconscious again and gratefully surrendered to it. _

"Oh my God!" bartender whom Tony now knew to be called Elliot, tried to keep his voice down as this terrible tale took him by surprise. "What happened?"

Tony hadn't even gotten to the reason yet and Elliot looked like he was about to pass out. He sighed and didn't even stir as he felt the presence of another sidle up beside him and sit down.

He stared down at his drink, swirling the ice around with his stirrer. He normally never got drunk; he didn't like the way it made him feel. Then again, he hated the way he was feeling now. It was like he was being sucked inside a black hole and his insides were threatening to spill out and splatter the walls.

He used the little straw and moved the ice around inside the glass again, poking and prodding it, willing it to feel what he couldn't.

Tony didn't lift his head to face the newcomer as the man gestured for a drink. He wanted to tell, no scream at him to get away; as if to warn him about the black hole that might suck him in as well if he stayed there for too long.

Elliot obliged the man, quickly filling his unspoken request for a drink and nodding slightly at him.

Tony caught the odd one-sided exchange, but said nothing. He waited patiently for Elliot to turn back to him for a continuation of his sop-story.

"So….he just left you lying there?" Elliot asked quietly.

Tony replied while shrugging, "I don't know El, I was never conscious after that point to have any idea what he did."

In one swift motion, Tony scooped up a pretzel, popped it into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

"It was, however, the last time I ever set foot in that room."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys, I'm sorry it took me longer to get this one out to you. Writer's Block knocked on my door and when I let it in, it ate all of my food and demanded that I go out and buy it a comfy couch so it could stay for a while. Anyway, this one is a lot shorter and it didn't come out the way I expected it to but I hope it'll be alright. I really do appreciate the time that you take to review my story and I appreciate you staying with me throughout the duration of it. :D You're all amazing XD.**

**Chapter 3**

_"It has been said that time heals all wounds. I do not agree. The wounds remain._

_ In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue, and the pain lessens, but it is never gone." Rose Kennedy_

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Was his alarm going off? _

_Oh crap! He was going to be late for school, again! Mrs. Johnston was seriously going to kill him this time!_

_He tried to jump out of bed but was unsuccessful. Something was tying him down and he couldn't move; his head was restricted and it felt like his body was encased in one of those straight jackets._

_Surreptitiously, he shifted his eyes around the room to try to determine where he was. _

_Beep._

_Beep._

_He really needed to turn that damn alarm clock off._

Okay, so where am I?_ He didn't recognize this to be his room. There were no posters on the walls, in fact there were no shelves and the walls were painted in just a simple white. _

_Hmm…_

_All of a sudden, the distinct smell of antiseptic hit him and came to the logical conclusion that he was in a hospital._

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

_Argh! That was getting annoying. How did they expect him to sleep if they kept turning his alarm—oh!_

_Heart monitors? He looked down and noticed various tubes and lines running back and forth connecting him to multiple machines and IV poles. _

_Images of lying on the floor in his own pool of blood exploded before his mind's eye. He remembered feeling intense pain and that he couldn't do anything to stop it. _

_He groaned as he tried to lift himself up into a sitting position._

"_Welcome back, Anthony. How are you feeling?" A very nice looking nurse said softly as she proceeded to walk over and check his vitals._

"_Um," Tony's voice cracked as his throat was dry and his lips parched. The nurse promptly picked up a cup of water off of his bedside table and brought it to his lips._

"_Okay, I guess. I've felt worse." He said softly after he had taken a long draw from the cup. Tony flashed her his famous grin as if to emphasize his point._

_She raised an eyebrow at him and he slumped further down in his bed._

"_Anthony," she started._

"_Tony, please ma'am."_

"_Tony, I want you to rest and I don't want you getting out of that bed, do you understand?" she said this kindly but Tony understood that if he didn't obey she would not hesitate to forcibly make him._

"_Yes." Suddenly, making his lips form words was getting to be too much effort._

"_You go to sleep and I'll wake you up for dinner later, okay? Oh and my name is Kim so if you need anything just ask."_

_Tony simply nodded as his eyelids drooped and he slipped back to sleep._

_He awoke a few hours later, not at all surprised that there was nobody sitting in the chair waiting for him. _

_He glanced around the dark room and tried to figure out how he could get out. He hated hospitals; he was only eleven, but it definitely wasn't the first time he had been admitted._

_Nurse Kim entered his room a few moments later carrying a tray that presumably held his sad excuse for a dinner. _

"_I hope you're feeling better Tony." She said sweetly._

"_Uh, yes I am actually." Tony lied. The nurse placed his tray on the bedside table next to him so he could easily access it._

"_I notified your next of kin, your father, that you were here with us, but he said that he was out of town and unfortunately couldn't change his flight."_

"_Oh, that's alright." Tony said with a smile, he knew that his father would act as if his son were the best thing since sliced bread if someone asked about him. That is, presuming that they even knew he existed. "He's really busy, I wouldn't expect him to come flying back here just for me."_

_After all didn't he just leave Tony to bleed out on the cold floor just hours ago?_

"_Alright, well I brought you an extra pudding cup," she winked at him "And make sure to press that button if you need me for anything, okay?"_

"_Yup." Tony replied softly as he reached across, albeit painfully, to retrieve his food._

He had been in that hospital for a week. His battered body took its sweet time healing and one of his cuts got infected. He wasn't all too happy about staying but he had no other choice.

He glanced up to look at Elliot who was watching him closely. He felt sorry for the poor guy; he was probably ruining his night with his less than stellar childhood stories.

Oh well.

He had lied earlier when he told Elliot that he didn't know what his father had done after he lost consciousness the first time. He knew exactly what happened; his father probably poured himself yet another drink and contentedly left Tony lying there knowing he wouldn't have to deal with any more 'weakness and failure' for the rest of the night.

"Did he ever come back to pick you up when he got back?" Elliot asked, pure concern dotting his features.

Tony chuckled, "He never actually went out of town, El." He paused and let Elliot mull that over for a moment.

"And no, he didn't. He sent the chef to come and get me, which was better than nothing I guess."

"And he wasn't even the slightest bit happy with the fact that you were okay?" Elliot asked once again.

Tony shook his head, the poor kid looked like he was about to cry. He should really stop throwing all this heavy stuff at him.

"Nah…..he didn't acknowledge me till he 'needed' me later that night." Oops.

That one hadn't meat to slip past his lips.

Elliot gasped and his brow furrowed realizing that Tony's father had beat him nearly to death on the same day he returned from the hospital.

The man, whom Tony had been paying no attention to since he arrived, beside him started to shift his weight and Tony could feel the anger that was suddenly radiating off of him.

Tony wasn't even talking to this man, why would he be angry all of a sudden? He should tell him to go mind his business.

Yeah.

"Excuse me…do you have a prob—" Oh, _shit!_

It couldn't be enough that he had already spilled his guts to a stranger. And it couldn't be enough that all of his emotions had been out on display, his mask having been haphazardly tossed to the side.

No, it apparently wasn't enough, because now he realized that he was staring into the face of the one person he didn't want to know.

Gibbs.

Wonder-fucking-full.

He sighed and turned to his bourbon; the same drink he had been nursing for hours because he didn't want to drink any more.

And he downed it.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I just want it to go on the record that you all are amazing! :D **

**I got this one out fairly fast because I was bored when I got home from work and couldn't sleep. I know it's REALLY short, but I promise the next few chapters will be longer.**

Chapter 4

_He sighed and turned to his bourbon; the same drink he had been nursing for hours because he didn't want to drink any more._

_And he downed it._

_

* * *

_

The drink effectively burned his insides and warmed him up. He felt it rip and tug at the back of his throat and continue to venture down to eat up his empty stomach.

He closed his eyes and wished that he had just stayed silent. If he had just left D.C like he had been planning to before deciding to come into the bar, Gibbs would never know how weak he truly was.

But, why was Gibbs even here? He didn't even care about Tony.

..Right?

"Tony?" Gibbs asked softly when Tony gave no indication of speaking anymore. He had to do something to try and draw him out of his mind; his usual method of head slapping the man was not an option at the moment.

"Anthony!" Gibbs all but yelled.

"What are you doing here Gibbs?" Tony replied, his voice just above a whisper and his eyes still tightly shut.

Gibbs openly gaped at the sound of Tony's voice; the man sounded so broken, shattered. It took all of his strength not to fly to New York right then and there and give the elder DiNozzo a piece of his mind.

"Rob called me." He said simply and Tony just nodded.

Tony stared down at his hands, which were still apparently intent on clutching his empty shot glass, and noticed they were shaking again. He didn't want this to be happening. He didn't want to openly admit he was a failure to the one man he looked up to.

But he already had, and he couldn't take it back.

Gibbs's head snapped up when he heard the sound of crunching glass and realized that in place of a shot glass, Tony's hand now grasped its remaining shards and was covered in blood. He chanced a glance at Tony's face and noted that the blood and the broken glass hadn't even fazed him. He didn't seem to notice it at all.

"Tony, come on," he said while simultaneously moving to extract the shards of glass from Tony's hand and stand up.

Tony's only response was a muffled groan as Gibbs put pressure over his bleeding hand. When he looked down, the pieces of glass, his blood, and pain all connected at the same time to bring him back to the day when he found his mother in the piano room.

"I….I have to get outta here. I….have to…..hafta leave." Tony desperately slurred.

"I know, Anthony, that's what I'm trying to—" The fact that Gibbs was using DiNozzo's full first name was a little unnerving and Tony didn't want to dwell on why at the moment. He would get to that later.

"No…now." he said, and he thought he sounded like a child but he didn't care. He needed to leave before his anger consumed him and he started breaking every single piece of furniture and glass in the building. He needed to leave before he broke down and huddled in the corner and cried.

He turned on his heels away from Gibbs and attempted to take a step towards the exit.

He didn't make it.

His feet were not cooperating with him tonight and as he tried to take his first step toward the door, he promptly fell down, knocking over the stool he previously occupied and taking it down with him.

"Dammit!"

Gibbs wordlessly reached down and lifted him up placing Tony's arm around his own neck and his arm around Tony's waist. As they moved slowly together towards their exit, Gibbs glanced back and nodded his thanks to Elliot the bartender, who had been silently watching the two.

When they reached Gibbs's Challenger, Tony could barely keep his eyes open and was leaning heavily on his boss. He knew that if he opened his eyes now, it would be real and he would actually have to admit that he needed his boss's strength to keep him up.

Gibbs helped lower him into his designated seat and then proceeded to close the door and head around to the driver's side.

Normally, Tony hated being a passenger in the car. It was why he's always insisted on driving himself. He didn't like the loss of control he felt when he wasn't behind the wheel. However, he trusted Gibbs with his life and knew for a fact that even if he didn't reciprocate the feelings, Gibbs wouldn't let anything happen to him.

For the first time in a long time, Gibbs didn't feel the need to drive at his usual break-neck speed. He needed time to think. He knew that when he got back home he would need to come up with a way convince Tony that he meant everything and he wasn't going anywhere. He knew the younger man didn't have a golden childhood, but he never realized how bad it had actually been until a few hours ago.

And he was one of the very few people who could read the real Anthony DiNozzo, the one without the mask.

And the real Anthony DiNozzo was in pain and thinking self-deprecating thoughts. He could see it written all over the boy's face.

Gibbs understood from the various hints that Tony dropped in everyday conversation that he didn't think all too much of his own well-being and didn't think that he was worthy of anything.

He quickly glanced over at his suffering Senior Field Agent and took stock of his position.

Tony was hunched over in his seat, his head down with his chin touching his chest. His hands were placed limply at his sides and his breathing was slow and pained.

He'd give anything to take the younger man's pain away. Not that he would openly admit that to him.

And that's when the realization dawned.

He mentally slapped himself on the back of his head for it. Tony needed exactly that; he needed to feel…well needed. Hell the boy should know that he was actually _wanted_. He needed to know that someone would be there for him, and he needed to know that that person would be Gibbs himself.

He promised himself that when they got back, he wouldn't mess it up this time. He would tell Tony what he needed to hear, what he felt. That Tony was the son he never had and always wanted.

And Gibbs didn't care if they didn't do that…didn't _speak_, he didn't care if he was violating a personal rule. If it would bring Tony back to him, he would do it.

* * *

A/N: I tried to keep it fairly simple...there will be more up soon, I promise XD


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay so I'm sooooooo sorry it has taken me this long to update. I'm in the middle of moving and classes just started and it has basically been one big hellstorm after another. Yay me! /sarcasm. I promise I did not abandon this story and I apologize that this chapter sucks...but...whatever. **

**I swear its not what it looks like at the end! You just have to wait till the next one for the explanation ;) Oh and beware there is alot of swearing in this chapter so if that's not your thing...**

* * *

The silence that surrounded them when the engine was turned off was a little overwhelming.

For Gibbs, it meant that his time for thinking was almost up.

For Tony, it meant that he had to confront a possibly angry boss and present him with his resignation letter.

They sat in silence for at least ten minutes each contemplating their next move until Gibbs finally opened the door and stepped out.

Tony did not react to the sound of the driver's side door shutting and barely registered the cool night breeze hitting his face as his own door was opened.

Gibbs sighed and realized that DiNozzo was apparently someplace deep within his own mind and went to help him out.

When Gibbs had successfully placed Tony on the couch he turned, giving the kid a moment, and went into the kitchen to make coffee for him and tea for Tony.

* * *

_An eight year old Anthony DiNozzo ran through the long halls of the mansion humming his "song of the week" which happened to be the new James Bond theme song._

_He had recently watched the movie and it instantly became his favorite. He decided that he wanted to be a super secret spy when he grew up._

…_.._

"_Wouldn't that be soooo cool?" he exclaimed, speaking rapidly at Jim the gardener. "I mean I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted…and…and have like these really awesome gadgets and stuff. I mean I think they're called gadgets. Maybe, I dunno. But I'd love to have something like that. Oh! And Bond's car was soooo totally awesome! I could ride around forever in it and everyone would watch me and get jealous. Haha!"_

_Jim had stopped what he had been doing to listen to the overly excited heir and laughed along with him._

"_Yeah Tony, that'd be fantastic! You gotta promise me though, that you'll come pick me up and let me drive around with you in that car of yours." He said._

"_Oh definitely!" Tony shouted while laughing. "We'd go on these really cool missions and get the bad guys and stuff. I mean I _really_ wanna be like him when I grow up. I could catch everyone and put them in a top secret place where they could never get out! I'd even come back here to put my father away—"_

_Tony trailed off as he realized he'd said too much. Jim's head had snapped up at that point and all color drained from his face._

"_Tony, what do you mean?" he asked gently._

"_Uhm..nothing. I didn't mean anything by that, sir." Tony spoke rather fast but his voice was shaky. _

"_No. Don't lie to me Anthony…if he's done something to hurt you I can help."_

_Realizing that he'd been caught in a lie and there was no way out of this, Tony decided he might as well tell the truth._

"_No," Tony said darkly "you can't help me…you'll get hurt." _

_Jim was surprised when he saw Anthony switch from an excited demeanor to a dangerously small and broken one in an instant. He urged the young boy to tell him what was happening and finally after several minutes, Tony caved. He was shocked to discover the boy's father had been using him as a punching bag for a pretty long time and decided to confront him later._

…_._

_Yes, being a spy would be great! Anthony thought as he continued to run around the hallways trying his best to imitate the "spy moves" as he liked to call them. _

_He stopped shortly to catch his breath and heard heavy footsteps catching up to him. _

"_BOY!" his father yelled._

_Tony internally shuddered and outwardly gasped. _

_What had he done this time?_

"_Yes, father?" Tony asked as politely as he could while turning to face his father._

"_Were my previous instructions not clear to you?" he spat at Tony. "I thought I specifically told you NEVER to tell anyone about our lessons."_

"_Uh…" he sputtered a little and shook his head. "No…I mean yes they were clear, sir."_

"_Then what in God's name was that dreadful excuse for a gardener talking about? Because I know that you would never go against my rules now would you? His father continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm._

"_No, sir..I—" But he was cut off._

"_Because you know what happens when you defy an order, don't you boy?" _

"_Yes sir."_

"_Good. Now I will ask you once more, were my instructions not clear?"_

"_Yes, sir, they were…but..but I..I didn't mean to say anything..and it's not his fault..I was talking about James Bond and I forgot for just a second and it slipped out….and then he asked me to tell him the truth..and well mother tells me never to lie and—"_

_His explanation was cut short as DiNozzo Snr. grabbed Tony by the arm and roughly pulled him out of the hallway and into the adjacent room._

"_Well now. Apparently they were not clear enough and I shall have to teach them to you again." The pleasure in his father's voice was sickening to Tony and he thought he would pass out at just the sight of the metal fireplace poker his father was now wielding._

_

* * *

_

Tony shuddered and hugged the pillow he'd been clutching closer to his body. His mind was on fire tonight and his memories never ceased to bring him discomfort.

He only noticed that Gibbs had entered the room when a steaming mug of tea was thrust in front of his face.

He looked up at a surprisingly mellow-looking Gibbs, who had also apparently been calling his name for a while now, and took the peace offering.

Gibbs stood for a while contemplating something while Tony stared into his mug.

"I uh." Tony started. "I guess you think…I mean I know you… God. DAMMIT!"

He instantly stood up causing the pillow that was taking up residence on his lap to fall to the floor. He looked pathetically like a confused puppy as he walked around in rushed circles before deciding on striding towards the basement.

When he reached the bottom landing of the basement, Tony quickly walked over to the rear cupboard where he knew the boss kept his Bourbon. Before he could get his good hand wrapped around the bottle, however, Gibbs practically ran across the floor and pushed him away from the shelf. He'd never seen him move so fast in his life.

"What the fuck man?" Tony half slurred and half yelled.

Gibbs's eyes were flaring with anger at the desperate measures this boy had to go through tonight to get rid of the memories his bastard of a father had left instilled in him.

"You don't need to drink anymore."

Tony just stared back at him; his eyes turning from confused to angry in an instant. Apparently, he misunderstood Gibbs's angry glare.

"Sit down Tony." He said softly.

With a resolute nod, Tony obeyed and took a seat on the bench opposite the brilliantly crafted boat.

"I'm gonna turn in my resignation letter tomorrow."

Gibbs was dumbfounded. He was most definitely not expecting that reaction.

"The hell you will!"

"No—I can't work for you anymore Gibbs. Not anymore. Not like this."

"Like what Tony? Hmm. Please tell me 'cuz I would really like to know why the hell you would ever think that?"

"I..I can't do my job without some part of my past coming back to kick me in the ass. Actually, I don't even think I can do this job at all. I always fuck everything up." Tony's words were blending together even more now and he was desperately trying to get across to Gibbs that he just wanted to disappear. To make sure that no one would ever see this side of him again; and in order to do that he'd have to leave. He couldn't allow himself to have such close relationships with people. He couldn't get close to them because he would end up hurting them.

And then Gibbs did something Tony didn't expect.

He smacked him across the face.


End file.
